


Mars Hill

by potsticker1234



Category: AC Odyssey - Fandom, Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Assassin's Creed Odyssey
Genre: Post-Canon, bible fanfic but hear me out, kassandra meets the apostle paul during his trip to athens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-12-25 11:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18260666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potsticker1234/pseuds/potsticker1234
Summary: Kassandra is immortal and life can become pretty bleak, especially when she's stopped counting the years until she meets an interesting traveler near the Akropolis.A loose compilation of the adventures of Kassandra and the Apostle Paul. Fate makes them meet time after time.





	1. The Unknown God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra's statue at the Akropolis has gone through many changes over the years and a mysterious traveler stumbles across it.
> 
> Inferred from Acts 17: Paul in Athens at Mars Hill.

The sun’s rays hit her skin and the summer’s breeze rustled through her hair. There she stood like so many times before, atop the Parthenon with the statue of Athena standing proud and tall in the center. She stood at the edge and overlooked the city that was beloved by her dear friend Perikles all those centuries ago. Athens still bustled with the buzz of life even though Korinth had become the trade center of the Greek world. She smiled to herself, Alkibiades would have laughed at the idea of Korinth being more important than Athens. Surely it was supposed to be a city of pleasure and not commerce.

Kassandra steeled her fist, she hated the Roman occupation of her home land. The war between Sparta and Athens had ended so long ago, she had quit counting the years. After all, she was some four hundred years old. Though she was still Greek to the core.

She turned her head to survey the land and a fairly large crowd in the _agora_ caught her eye. It looked like a debate. She squinted at them from the Parthenon and desperately wished Ikaros was still there to spy on them for her. If she wanted to learn more, she would have to go down there and observe them herself.

She climbed down the Akropolis with ease, she had done it countless times. As she neared the crowd in the _agora_ she noticed the speaker was a foreigner. He dressed like a common man but held himself like an important politician. His feet were covered in dust and his robes looked like they were held together by chance. He was a well worn traveler.

“Listen here mighty Athenians, I see that you are religious and believe in many wondrous signs! I have come to you from as far away as Jerusalem to spread the good news. I have seen signs that no man can explain,” said the foreigner.

A local blacksmith scoffed at him, “Speak what you wish to say, don’t confuse us with your words!”

The speaker smiled at him, “As you say. You there, you are a fisherman? Once you catch a fish and prepare it, can it come back to life?”

The fisherman regarded the man, “Of course not, it’s dead.”

“Right! So then, what happens when a man is killed?”

The fisherman waved his knife in the air, “He stays dead.”

“Right again! But what if I told you that was not the case where I come from,” the foreigner rested his hands on his hips and the crowd laughed nervously.

This man’s interesting conversation had drawn other people and a few philosophers emerged from the crowd, “What nonsense is this man speaking?”

Kassandra watched from the back as a small group of philosophers led the man up the well-worn stairs of the Akropolis. They asked him questions the entire way and Kassandra gained much knowledge of the man by tailing the group at a safe distance.

This man’s name was Pávlos, or rather Paul since he was a Roman citizen. He seemed friendly enough, but Kassandra learned to never trust a Roman further than she could throw one. On the other hand, he was also a Jew who seemed well educated and civil. Paul told the Greek philosophers crazy stories of raising the dead, healing the blind, and casting out spirits. Kassandra smirked, she would have loved to compare stories with this man, _nothing tops the things I’ve seen_ , she thought to herself.

They reached the top of the Akropolis and Paul stood in the center. Kassandra meandered off and blended in with a group of worshippers on the side. She watched with curiosity as Paul addressed the members of the Areopagus.

He outstretched his arms as if greeting all the people in front of him, “Athenians, I see that you are all very religious in everything you do.”

A few nodded their heads in agreement.

“I have explored every street of your magnificent city and spent much time among your temples. You have an altar and place of worship for each of your gods like the mighty Zeus, but I have found an altar attributed to ‘the Unknown God,’” he motioned over to a small altar nestled between two bigger temples.

It was once a grand statue of a mighty warrior with a spear and an eagle. Its glory had long since been eroded by the years of wear and tear. Kassandra smiled at the mention of her own statue. She remembered when Herodotos had her pose for several hours so that a sculptor friend of Phidias could get all the details set in stone. A few details of her true image had to be changed so that it might blend in better with the surrounding altars. The Spear of Leonidas became a full spear gripped in her right hand. Though she never fought with a shield, Herodotos thought it would be wise to add one to her statue. She protested the idea of having the Athenian owl on her shield, but a Spartan lambda would have gotten the statue thrown off the Akropolis. A marble Ikaros rested on the statue’s left shoulder. Her face was concealed by a helmet and her armor looked like any soldier’s standard battle armor.

The foreigner’s voice brought her back to the present moment and she gazed at her statue. Nature’s forces had snapped the spear tip off, Ikaros now looked like any other bird, and any defining features like her braid had been eroded. The plaque that originally had the words “The Eagle Bearer” had worn off into some illegible scribble and was replaced by the Akropolis caretakers with the words “The Unknown God.”

Paul’s eyes caught her gaze from the center of the crowd for a moment, “People of Athens, I raise you this: your altar to the Unknown God is an altar to the God of the universe! It is a tribute to the one who made the heavens and the earth. He is one that does not live in temples or sanctuaries, he is not served by anyone. He gives life and breath to all. He has made mankind from one in the hopes they seek God and find him.”

His words turned the heads of even the everyday worshippers and people were starting to get uncomfortable.

“Worry not, this God I speak of is not distant from man. We are his children and he has made us righteous through the one he raised from the dead.”

The philosophers scoffed at him and yelled at him to leave the Akropolis. A handful of people seemed to be interested in what this man had to say and followed him back down the steps. Kassandra considered following him to make sure the others did not send guards after the man. She had no quarrel with this man, her statue had long since resembled her and the confusion was a common mistake.

* * *

 

She found Paul later that night at the Port of Piraeus. He was speaking with a merchant at the exact dock the Adrestia used to harbor at so many years ago while she conducted her business in the heart of the city. She approached him, “Where to next, stranger?”

He looked at her with kind eyes, something that only someone who knew extreme pain could show, “I have business to attend to in Korinth, my work is never done and there are people throughout the world that I must speak to. I am called Paul, but you already know that. Tell me, what are your thoughts on my teachings in the _agora_ and Akropolis?”

Kassandra was impressed that he noticed and remembered her, “I am Kassandra,” _but you can call me the Unknown God_ , she thought to herself, “I certainly think your teachings are interesting and your manner of speaking reminds me somewhat of the great Sokrates, great man he is.”

Paul blinked at her, “You make it sound like you knew him personally!” he paused for a beat, “That’s impossible my dear, certainly you are younger than me.”

She smirked and felt the weight around her neck, the Staff of Hermes had taken to the smaller form of a necklace.

“Well, Kassandra, I must say that your city is breathtaking and I hope to visit again. Many people seem to be lost and though I know little of you, I have the feeling you are their protector,” he embraced her arm and smiled at her in a way that resembled her old friend Barnabas.

She nodded, “I have a long history with this place.”

“No doubt, you are a beacon of hope. May God bless your travels, Kassandra,” he shook her hand once again and turned to board the merchant ship.

“ _Chaire_ , Paul,” she waved at him.

Kassandra climbed to the rooftop of one of the ship sheds and watched him sail out of the port east towards Korinth like she had centuries ago to find her mother.

Things had changed so much since then, life was almost simpler when all she had to worry about was which Cultist she had to hunt down next. Life as an immortal became a drag and she hated the feeling of outliving everyone she met. But little interactions like this made things a little brighter.

A glimmer in the long dark, like the ship’s light on the horizon.


	2. Korinth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra runs into a familiar face at the Akrokorinth. Though her days of being the famed mighty misthios are long behind her, her intimidation factor hasn't changed.
> 
> Inferred from Acts 18: Paul in Korinth.

“I see we keep running into each other, my dear!” Paul said to a wandering Kassandra.

She paused during her daily stroll through the Akrokorinth to greet a familiar voice, “Paul, it’s nice to see you again. How has Korinth been treating you?”

“It’s certainly not my first time here, but the blossoming trees never cease to amaze me,” he took a moment to take in the vibrant pink trees around them, “Walk with me for a moment?”

She followed him around the Akrokorinth as he began to converse with her in a way that reminded her ever so much of her old friend Sokrates. They made stops at all the altars as he regaled her with the tales of the good old days that never were. 

He stopped her in front of the temple to Aphrodite and observed the worshippers for a moment, “Tell me, Kassandra, have you ever done something you regretted?”

She smiled at him, “Haven’t we all?” she thought back to all the times she wished she could have been faster, stronger, better for the people she loved. If only she had been faster to get to Phoibe in Athens. If only she had been stronger to save Brasidas from the Cult’s puppet, her own brother Alexios. If only she had been better, a step ahead to preserve the lives of those she loved. It had been centuries since then, but the pain still cut to the bone.

Though she hid her sadness well, Paul saw through it like a thin veil, “I do believe that is not an uncommon answer. We have all done something we wish we could take back. Will you allow me to tell you the story of my youth?”

She nodded.

“Once, when I was young and foolish, I did unspeakable things to people. I dragged men and women out of their houses for worshipping the one whom I speak for now. I threw those people in jail without a second thought,” he put his hand up to his chin,

“I was so overly self righteous and wrapped up in my own status that I thought I was doing the right thing. I remember one man in particular, St é fanos. The crowd drug him out to be stoned for preaching the good news. I watched as they picked up stones and started throwing them. I will never forget the sound of his bones breaking,” he stared into her eyes as if searching for the part of her memory that had seen the breaking of human bones too many times,

“He didn’t deserve it, but I was a different man and I held the cloaks of his murderers so that they could more efficiently hurt him. I have done some pretty terrible things in my day,” he stared off at the city below the temple mount.

Paul’s words caused Kassandra to think of her own family and all the pain and turmoil they had been put through. She certainly was no stranger to the weight of a heavy past.

“You’ve turned your life around since?” she asked as that familiar, friendly smile spread across his face, “I once knew someone very close to me that had to overcome great trials and tribulations to undo what he had done in his younger years. It is an uphill battle that only a few are capable of fighting. He was such a strong fighter though,” her voice trailed off.

“We all go through things, Kassandra, it’s just a matter of never forgetting our value inscribed in us by the Creator.”

She looked down at her sandals, she was never one for religion of any sorts even if Barnabas had insisted she was sent by the gods; she did appreciate both of their sentiments, however.

Her moment of nostalgia was cut short by the shouts of an angry man and the footsteps of a mob, “That’s him! I demand that you take this man away immediately.”

The centurions moved to grab at Paul and Kassandra formed a barrier between the two parties, “And what exactly has this man done to you, stranger?”

The man cried out, “He’s been spreading false teaching against God in our places of worship, I wouldn’t expect a pagan Greek like yourself to understand.”

His mob of fellow Jews jeered in approval. Kassandra huffed air through her nose and turned to the Roman centurions, she was not going to get far with the side that was already infuriated, “Tell me, has this man done anything to offend the Roman law?”

One of the centurions stared blankly at Kassandra and she made sure to rest her hand at her side, showing off her  _ spatha _ . He swallowed hard and shook his head.

“You seem like an honorable soldier. This man is a Roman citizen and I suggest you leave him alone unless he proves to be truly worth your time,” she crossed her arms as the other centurions released Paul.

They backed away from them and left them with the crowd of angry Jews. Kassandra waved her hand at them, “Unless you want to be thrown from the Akrokorinth, I suggest you all to be on your way.”

The mob cut their losses and dispersed into the regular foot traffic. 

Paul thanked her, “I appreciate your time, my dear, but I must be on my way. I have some friends coming in from Makedonia and I need to prepare for their arrival. If you ever find the need for some company, please seek me out.”

He shook her hand and she saw in him a realness that was so rare a quality these days.

“I feel like this won’t be the last time we meet. Farewell, Kassandra.”

“May the winds be at your back, Paul.”

He started down the steps of the Akrokorinth and she made her way to the edge that overlooked the main part of the city. Though much of the culture in Korinth had changed, the view stayed the same and she swore she could hear the faint laughter of her brother whistling through the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment if you're enjoying these random historical meet ups!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is something I have been thinking about for a while and it could totally happen because of the Staff, right? Find me on Tumblr @ potsticker1234 for more Odyssey shenanigans!


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